


Aftermath

by bucky77



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Post-Time War (Doctor Who), Time War Angst (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucky77/pseuds/bucky77
Summary: Prompt: I didn't know you drink.Rose comforts the Doctor on the anniversary of the death of Gallifrey.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Aftermath

Rose wondered through the open doors of the TARDIS library, trying to keep quiet despite the fact she knew the Doctor wouldn’t be asleep. The lights had been dimmed significantly, so she could barely see his slim form bent over a book on the couch, and the only sound was the slight rustle of paper as he turned over the page. She walked over to him, casually picking up the crystal glass beside the book and taking a slight sip of the amber liquid that filled it. She didn’t know what it was, but it was strong. 

“I didn’t know you drink,” she said, replacing the glass and collapsing into the opposite side of the couch. 

“I don’t,” he told her, not so much as glancing up at her from his book. She watched him quietly for a while, studying his behaviour. She hadn’t seen him all day (well, for the last 24 hours, which was as accurate as you could get for a ‘day’ inside the TARDIS). She could see he was no longer reading, his deep brown eyes remained fixed on one point on the page. Eventually he let out a heavy sigh and lifted the glass to his lips, taking a hefty gulp.

“Everything okay?” She asked him, despite knowing her efforts at getting him to open up about anything at all we’re hopeless. She didn’t have it in her not to try.

“Everything’s fine,” he replied, voice flat. What worried Rose most was that he didn’t remotely bother to put on a cheery tone. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness she saw the bags under his eyes, which had lost their playful glint, and his skin that was simultaneously pale and flushed. He looked more tired than she’d ever seen him, and for once she could see the age in his eyes.

“What’s up?” She tried again. The Doctor didn’t show any sign of surprise or annoyance at her questioning; he knew she would do this. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from her, another thing that caused the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach stir. 

“Just a bad anniversary,” he replied in the same detached tone. He downed the rest of his glass and reached for a decanter to pour another after seeming a little shocked it was already empty. Rose leant forward and gently pried the glass from his shaky fingers, setting it aside. Even then, he didn’t show a glimpse of emotion.

“Probably not the best way to deal with it,” she suggested.

“There is no way to deal with it,” he sounded hopeless, a new tone for him.

“Ever tried talking about it?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. The Doctor never thought about talking about himself if there was any other option, even crap ones. He sighed, knowing she was probably right, but still feeling reluctant. Rose waited patiently. She felt as though the slightest movement would startle him. In the long silence, Rose started to let herself believe that maybe he would actually talk to her. But then...

“No,” he finally settled on. Rose gave him her best exasperated expression and he knew he had to reconsider. He reached over and wrapped his hands around the glass again, holding it close to him before Rose could wrestle it from his grip again. She decided against her better judgement to let him have it, because she knew he was struggling internally about whether to open up to her, but knew if he tried to pour any more she would stop him. The Doctor sipped absentmindedly at the drink. His hands shook so much Rose was surprised he didn’t drop it. His clear anxiety was making even her feel on edge.

“Have I ever told you about Gallifrey?” He asked her, and she shook her head no, not even daring to speak to answer his question for fear of interrupting his flow. “I’m from there, it used to be my home. It was beautiful. Fields of red grass, orange sky. The city was huge, and in was encased in this enormous glass dome.” Rose sensed he was finished talking when he trailed off, opting for examining his glass instead, but was unendingly curious about his past.

“Do you ever visit?” She asked, but immediately regretted doing so when the Doctor took another gulp of his drink and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I can’t,” he answered. Rose’s mind kicked into high gear trying to decipher what he meant. Was the TARDIS not able to reach it? Was he exiled? What could he possibly have done to deserve that?

“Why?” She asked, somewhat apprehensive.

“It’s gone,” he said. “The whole planet burned.” The effect of his words were instantaneous. The air sat on Rose’s shoulders like it had actual weight, and she felt as though she’d been plunged under water. Very cold water.

“I’m so-“ Rose began before the Doctor immediately cut him off.

“No. No don’t say that, I don’t deserve that.” Before Rose could ask what he meant, he continued in a voice sow soft Rose almost didn’t catch it. “It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean it’s your fault? Of course it’s not your fault,” she told him gently. She knew that the Doctor had a sort of God complex, in the best possible way. He truly believed, above all else, that it was his job to save everyone, no matter what. She couldn’t imagine how he must have felt failing to save his own planet of all places, and she needed to help him shake off that weight. He couldn’t live like that. To her surprise, however, the Doctor sprung to his feet and moved to the other end of the library, dipping behind a bookcase out of her line of sight. She could hear his footsteps pacing up and down, but decided not to follow. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to leave, either, knowing better than anything that he should never be alone. 

Suddenly, there was a huge crash from his end of the room, making Rose jump to her feet and run to him in record time. When she got to the bookshelf he had concealed himself behind, she saw a flurry of pages floating slowly down to the books they’d flown out of, which were now scattered across the ground. They lay open and crumpled where the Doctor had undoubtedly just flung them. He now stood with his back facing Rose, his weight rested on his trembling arms as he leant on the shelf. 

Cautiously, she walked over to him, picking her way carefully through the books. He jumped when he felt her hand on the small of his back, but made no effort to move away. She didn’t question him any more. She knew there was something else, something he wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t care. All she wanted in that moment was to do anything she could to make sure she never saw him like this again. She pulled him into a hug, almost surprised when he immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Neither of them felt the need to talk anymore, and the Doctor held on to the back of Rose’s sweater like it was the only thing tethering him to reality itself. 

Rose’s heart broke as his breathing shook before he buried his head in the crook of her neck so she couldn’t hear it. She didn’t know how long they stood there: it was as though time was more meaningless than it usually was in the TARDIS. She was afraid of what she would be faced with when he pulled away, but she almost managed to convince himself she wasn’t. If all she could ever do for him was be there when he needed her, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters. Comments and criticism always welcome.
> 
> As always, let me know if you'd like a second chapter to this.


End file.
